


Old Things

by Allegory_for_Hatred



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Past Child Abuse, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:02:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26801086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allegory_for_Hatred/pseuds/Allegory_for_Hatred
Summary: After finding some disturbing things in Reginald's old office, Five is forced to explain the individual training he went through as a child.-For Whumptober 2020: "Collars"
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & Everyone
Comments: 23
Kudos: 472





	Old Things

"What even is this?” 

Allison blinked up from the miscellaneous papers she was sorting. There was something in Klaus’ hands... 

“A paperweight?” She asked. “I don’t know. Was that with Dad’s things?” 

Klaus nodded. He tossed it in her direction, but Diego snatched it out of the air before Allison could catch it herself. 

“I think it might have a diamond in it.” Diego said, nose scrunching up in concentration. He shook it. 

Allison sighed, then turned back to her own pile. 

Klaus _oohed_ _. “_ Another one for the _sell_ pile!” He tried to steal the paperweight back, but Diego held it overhead and out of reach. “Aww, come on, man! I found it first!” 

“Too late.” Diego smirked. 

Luther made a gruff sound, eyes searching between their childish antics. The small smile on his face made it hard to take all the grumbling too seriously. There was an open antique box on his lap, spilling with jewelry their father had never worn. “Enough, you two.” He turned a conspiratorial glance to Allison. “We’re never going to finish cleaning this place out.” 

“We might.” Allison hummed, stacking up some pages after deeming them worthless. “If everyone chipped in.” 

Luther and Allison both turned to the bookshelf. Even Klaus and Diego, mid-fight, stopped long enough to follow their pointed looks. 

Five didn’t look up from his book. He flipped a page, lounging against the bookshelf. “I’m helping.” 

“Uh, you’re reading, bro.” Diego said. "While the rest of us are actually cleaning out Dad's office."

“I’m reading one of Dad’s books.” Five intoned. “At least I’m not throwing around some cheap paperweight with a quartz in it.” 

Diego blinked. “A quartz?” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

Diego paused, looking down to inspect the paperweight again. When he was preoccupied with squinting down at the plastic weight, Klaus snatched it out from his hands. 

“Five's right. This is totally cheap garbage.” He hugged it to his chest. “Just like me! I love it.” 

“Whatever,” Diego said, defensive, “Just help us. This office isn’t going to clean itself.” 

Five hummed. Then, glancing up from his book and looking between his siblings, he said, “I don’t know. Looks like it’s cleaning up just fine without me.” 

Sensing how quickly this could turn into a fight, Luther and Allison shared a wide-eyed look. Luther didn’t need to be asked before he was intervening. He plucked the book right out from Five’s hands. 

“Hey!” 

“Enough.” He said sternly, “This is a family effort. At least help sort Dad’s things into the right piles.” 

The _trash_ and _sell_ and _keep_ piles all stared back at Five. Each overflowed with various belongings that Five had seen throughout his years at the Academy—knickknacks, books, pens... He frowned. 

“It belonged to the old man. It’s all trash.”

Klaus choked on a laugh. 

“Besides,” Five continued, his lips twitching upwards when Klaus snorted louder, “No one even uses this office. Vanya won’t even come in here. Who cares if it’s a cluttered mess?” 

He kicked a foot out, nearly toppling a stack of old medical texts. 

Even though they didn’t fall over, Allison still shot Five a glare. 

“I care.” She huffed.

Luther nodded his agreement. “This is our house now. We don’t need all this stuff lying around in waste.” 

“Like I want to live in a house full of Dad’s stuff anyway.” Diego cut in. He had apparently forgotten about the paperweight by now and was instead rummaging through a drawer. “Half of this stuff was used to torture us one way or another. Like—” he pulled out a shiny, gold pocket watch, “—for when he made us race.” 

Klaus perked up, the force of his excitement knocking a few papers to the floor. “Ooh! I remember that! Do you think it’s worth anything?” 

Diego frowned and rolled the watch around in his hand. “Maybe if it’s real gold.” 

“You two know Dad left his entire estate to us, right?” Allison interjected, “We are incredibly wealthy.” 

“Yeah, but this is more fun.” Klaus said.

Drawing in a long breath, Five turned back to Allison and Luther. “If Vanya doesn’t have to contribute to this train wreck, then neither should I.” 

“Come on, old man. It’s fun.” Diego said. He tossed the pocket watch at Five, who caught it effortlessly. It was definitely real gold. Five glared. “It’s cathartic, or some shit. Throwing out all the shit the old man used to torture us with.” 

Klaus nodded enthusiastically. He brandished a rusted, old key from one of Reginald’s usually-locked cabinets. “Like this? Absolute garbage.” With a flourish, he threw it into the trash pile. “I feel better already.” 

Luther’s mouth dropped open. “Klaus, you can’t just throw away a key.” He bent over and collected it from the floor with a groan. “We don’t even know what it’s for.” 

“Uh, we do know what it’s for, _mein_ _bruder_ _._ The mausoleum. _Duh_.” 

“The _what?”_

Allison blinked, befuddled. Her brows drew together as she tried to parse out the tight expression on Klaus’ face. “The mausoleum... like at a cemetery? Why would Dad have something like that?” 

“Why did Dad have any of the things he had?” Klaus rolled his eyes. 

“Who knows.” Five said, glaring at the astronomy book Luther had taken from him earlier, “I’m still not convinced that man wasn’t an alien.” 

“While little Five has a great point, I meant that Reggie used it to systematically ruin my life.” 

Luther gawped, but Diego merely nodded. The knife-wielder patted Klaus' shoulder hard enough to have him stumble. 

“I feel that, bro.” Diego said grimly, “You think my old knives are in here somewhere? He used to have me throwing those for hours until I couldn’t see straight.” 

“I’m sorry,” Allison interrupted with a raised hand. “Can we go back to the cemetery thing? Klaus, what’s all this about a _mausoleum?”_

Klaus shrugged, but he looked anything but nonchalant. He averted his gaze, turning to watch the key in Luther’s meaty grip instead. “For my _special training,_ or whatever Reggie used to call it. He’d—uh—lock me in a mausoleum for a few hours every week. I guess he thought it would make me less afraid of ghosts, but _surprise!_ Now I’m super afraid of ghosts, _and_ I have crippling PTSD!” 

“He would _what?!”_ Allison shrieked. 

“Yeah, great times. Can we throw it away now?” 

Her aghast expression immediately morphed into something far softer. Like concern. Or worry. Or rage. 

Not needing to be told again, Luther immediately dropped the key with a look of disgust on his face. It clanged loudly on the wooden floor. Klaus flinched at the noise, and Diego gave him another reassuring pat on the back. He also glared at the key like that would make it apologize. 

It didn’t. 

“Klaus...” Allison started. 

“Don’t. I’m over it.” At everyone’s pointed looks, Klaus hastily amended, “Well, okay. I’m not over it at all. But, like, isn’t that the point of this whole thing?” He gestured to Reginald’s office around them, “To throw away all the shitty stuff he used to hold over us? There’s definitely worse things in here than a key.” 

Allison didn’t look convinced in the slightest, and her eyes very much said, _“We’ll talk about this later.”_

But for now, she only sighed. Luther and Diego seemed to take the cue as well, both returning to their own searches without much hesitation. Though they all now wore deeply disturbed looks, Klaus’ almost desperate gaze kept anyone from speaking up. 

It took Five a moment longer to busy himself again. For one, Luther still had his book. For another... 

The tortured look on Klaus’ face... that was his fault, wasn’t it? Before he had jumped away, before he had gotten stuck, before the apocalypse—it had been Five’s job to watch out for everyone. He was the one who made sure Luther got enough calories when Dad had him lifting weights all day. He was the one who sat with Ben when the poor boy needed a shoulder to cry on. 

He was the one who snuck into mausoleums with board games and snacks. 

Judging by the small, almost shy look Klaus sent his way, the other man was thinking the same. 

Klaus looked away the second their eyes met, and a pit of guilt burned in Five’s chest. After a long moment, he turned away too. 

A desk drawer stared Five right in the face. 

With a heavy sigh, he slid it open. With no book to busy himself with and guilt burning at his chest, Five turned his full focus onto the task of digging through Dad's old things.

Nearly five minutes later, someone finally broke the somber atmosphere. 

"What in the hell is _this?”_ Diego said, confusion littering his tone and expression. 

Five blinked up from the papers he had been sorting through. 

The second he saw what Diego held, his heart stopped beating. His entire body locked into place, the blood roared in his ears. Five tried to quickly mask the panic on his face, but couldn’t stop his lips from parting open. 

No one looked his way, even though Five must have sucked in a horrified breath loud enough to overshadow even the pounding of his heart. 

His siblings all stepped around the desk to see what Deigo had. “Is that a collar?” She asked, pouting curiously. 

Luther’s brows furrowed. “A dog collar? But we never had a dog.” He paused. “Did we?” 

Diego held it close to his face, frowning. He wordlessly handed it to Luther without having to be prompted. “I think we would remember having a pet, Luth.” 

Luther gave his brother a deadpan stare for a long second before looking at the collar in his hands. It was a thick, black band clearly designed for a medium-sized dog’s neck. Strangely, Luther thought, instead of having a small latch on the side, this dog collar had a metal lock. It would need a key to open. He squinted down at it. 

“I think this is an electric shock collar,” Luther said, frowning down at the metal prongs lining the inside of the collar. He tapped the lock and glanced back to Diego. “Did you find the key?” 

“What kind of dog collar has a key?” Diego’s nose scrunched up. 

Luther shrugged. When Allison put her hand out, he handed it to her without complaint. “Maybe he had a dog before he got us?” He asked. 

They stood over it for a minute, quietly contemplating the mysterious collar’s origins, but it was Klaus who spoke up next. 

“Five? Are you okay there, buddy?” 

Five tried to shake himself from his stupor—from the chill running up his spine—but he couldn’t. Couldn’t tear his eyes away from the collar. 

_His collar._

Without thinking, Five touched a hand to the skin of his neck. 

Klaus’ eyes widened, realization dawning. His mouth dropped open into a horrified _“O.”_

“Shit _.”_ Klaus gasped. “You..? _Shit_.” 

Five blinked. Klaus’ curse was a lance piercing through his system, and suddenly Five felt his senses return. His fingers felt cold around his neck. Five slapped his hand back to his side mechanically, shoulders tense. 

But it was too late. All of Five’s siblings were staring at him, a mix of curiosity and concern pasted onto their faces. 

“Five?” Luther raised a brow. 

“It looks like garbage.” Five barked hollowly, though he wasn’t sure if he kept his voice from shaking, He hoped desperately to turn the conversation onto something else. Anything else. “Throw it out already.” 

“Five,” Allison asked, serious, “Do you recognize this?” 

He looked away. “No.” 

His siblings shared a look. Whatever silent conversation sparked between them, it wasn’t good. Allison, Luther, Klaus, and Diego all turned back to Five with wide, searching eyes. 

“It’s trash.” He said, and his voice was definitely wavering now. He was fifty-eight, dammit! This shouldn't be bothering him so much. “Just toss it. Or don’t. I don’t care.” 

Five had been through so much. Apocalypse. Commission. He had fought through it all with a straight face and the determination to keep going because stopping meant giving up and giving up meant the end of the world. But now, in the haze of domestic bliss, Five couldn’t keep that façade up.

_Fuck._

His gaze locked onto the collar in Allison’s hands. Even from the other end of the room, he could feel the rough fabric too tight around his breaths. He could feel the cold metal digging into his skin. The shocks. 

_God, the shocks._

Allison’s frown burrowed deeper. Then, as if the realization just tore through her, she dropped the collar onto Reggie’s old desk with a _thud._ Allison’s hands shot to her mouth. 

“Stop me if I’m wrong,” she said hesitantly, a dark uncurrent of venom lining her tongue, “and _please_ let me be wrong. But did Dad _use_ this on you?” 

Damn his idiot siblings for sharing the one family brain cell today. 

It seemed as if Five didn’t have any better option, so he merely shrugged in vague compliance. 

Diego gaped and Luther had to physically distance himself from the collar. Even though Five knew their disgusted, aghast expressions weren’t aimed at him, he couldn’t bring himself to meet anyone’s eyes. Something like shame burned at under Five's skin.

“Just when I thought Dad couldn’t get any worse...” Klaus mumbled, biting his fist. “He _collared you?”_

Five bristled. “He did shit to all of us.” 

“He never _physically tortured_ the rest of us!” Diego shouted. 

Luther looked like he might be sick. “I didn’t know... why didn’t we know about this, Five? This is the first time I’m seeing it.” 

“It was a long time ago—who cares?” 

“Who—” Allison stop-started, mouth dropping open in obvious frustration. “ _Who cares_ _?!”_

That fierce rage bubbled to the surface again, and Five bit back a snarl. “You didn’t drill Klaus on his thing. It was just training! Who gives a shit? Dad was always on his bullshit, you know this, Allison. He had you rumor people into doing horrible shit and I know you hated that!” 

“He wasn’t electrocuting me like some misbehaving dog, Five!” 

Luther stepped forward, raising his hands placatingly. As if that could ease the furious tension rippling through the air. 

Five knew, reasonably, that Allison wasn’t attacking him. But everyone seeing that damn collar—the thing that had tormented his most formative years felt... invasive. Humiliating. Five stepped back defensively. 

It had been his job to protect them from their special training. Not the other way around. Couldn’t they see that this was none of their business? 

“Why don’t we all calm down?” Luther tried again. 

They didn’t calm down. Not really. But Five took a deep breath anyway, hoping it might make his heart stop pounding so fast. That didn’t really help, either. Damn. 

Allison, following Five’s lead, took a deep, calming breath. She opened her mouth to continue, but it was Klaus who spoke first. 

“Every time I learn something new about the old bastard, he finds a way to get even worse.” Klaus laughed nervously and eyed the shock collar, “And I thought _my_ special training was bad...” 

Five sighed again. "Your training _was_ bad, idiot." This time when he spoke, his voice was only prickly in all the ways that it always was. “You guys are blowing this way out of proportion.” He explained, shooting a glare around the room. No one looked particularly abashed. Brats. “Electric shocks keep my powers in check. Old man figured that out fast enough. He used to give me shocks to force my jumps past their limits. It’s not a big deal. We all had shit.” 

_We all had shit—_ but Five knew what sort of training the others had. And he knew that none of it was quite like his. An electric shock to force him to jump, and jump, and jump until his nose was running blood and he was dry-heaving over dear old dad’s shoes. His stomach churned in protest even at just the memory.

There was a moment of quiet where no one spoke and it was only the sound of Five’s labored breaths as his mind rapidly flitted to some... unsavory past experiences. Then, only after a minute, did his siblings seem to relax. 

Well, relax was a strong word. Allison still looked fiercely protective, Luther looked about two seconds away from losing his lunch, and Diego looked murderous. Klaus just looked sad. Five still couldn’t bring himself to meet his brother’s eyes. But it was an improvement. 

In that moment, Five decided he wouldn’t tell them the rest. 

Like how sometimes when Five stepped out of line just a little too far, Dad would keep the collar on him for days. How the shocks were constant, searing pains without pause. Or how it wasn’t just a normal shock collar—Dad had tweaked it to such a high voltage that Five could only open his mouth in a silent scream. That Five still had the burn marks on his neck from some of his harsher punishments. 

Five didn’t say any of those things—wasn't sure he wanted to give his siblings more to argue over. It wasn’t their jobs to worry about him, after all. Besides that, Five wasn’t sure he could tell them about those week-long electric punishments without breaking down.

He was above that.

“Here,” Diego said, voice soft in a way that had Five sighing again. He held out the collar almost fearfully. Like holding it wrong would have it locking up around his oldest-youngest brother’s neck just like it had all those years ago. “You should have the honor of throwing it out. It’s trash, just like you said.” 

Five stared at the offending item. It hung low in Diego’s hands with the weight of every one of Five’s childhood nightmares. The electric burn of that collar. He could feel it even now. Even now even now _even now—_

_“_ You do it.” He said breathlessly, turning away to face the wall. “I don’t care.” 

_I can’t do it._

Five held his tongue, but the pitying look flashing over everyone’s faces said that the sentiment wasn’t well hidden in the slightest. 

“Sure, bro.” Diego’s voice was a growl. 

“I got it.” Klaus said. He stepped forward to steal the collar from Diego’s grip, but once he had it, Klaus held it about an arms-length away. “I’ll toss it out with the key. Like, right now. I think we can all agree that nobody wants to look at these any longer than we have to.” 

They all nodded gravely, sans Five, who’s nod was stiff and emotionless. 

Only once Klaus had left the room and that awful collar was gone from sight did Five feel himself start to breathe easier. When he finally found the energy to look up into his sibling’s eyes, he found palpable worry painted there. 

“Maybe we should stop for the day.” Luther suggested after a second. 

Both Allison and Diego deflated with visible relief.

“I think that’s a great idea. Today has been...” 

“Eventful.” Diego finished. He spared a subvert glance in Five’s direction. Five tried to scowl with limited effect. “Maybe Vanya had the right idea sitting this one out.” 

Five could agree with that. 

Klaus’ head popped in from behind the open door. His hands were empty now. Unwittingly, Five let out a breath of relief at that. Klaus grinned. 

“Are we taking a break?” When Allison confirmed, Klaus _whooped, “_ Just in time! I saw Vanya putting on a movie downstairs on my way past. Can we _please_ stop for a family movie night? _Pleaaaaase?_ _”_

Allison beamed. “I think we can do that. Is there room for four more?” 

\----

There was certainly room for four more. Enough room, in fact, that Five was sprawled out over the entire sofa, sound asleep. Klaus, Luther, and Vanya were curled up, asleep, in their own pile on the floor. 

The movie’s volume had been turned low, but the story was familiar even without its audio blaring. 

In his sleep, Five shuffled closer into Allison’s lap. She sighed, rhythmically running a hand through his hair until he settled down. 

“He’s going to kill you when he wakes up, you know.” Diego whispered. 

Allison offered a small smile, looking up from Five’s resting face. She parted his bangs with a brush of her fingers. “He’s had a long day.” She answered instead. 

“Yeah. I guess he has. We all have.” 

Allison let out a small breath. “He looks so peaceful when he sleeps. You almost forget...” 

Diego clenched his fists. “That Dad used to electrocute him for fun?” 

“I was going to say that he’s technically an adult, but. Yeah. That too.” 

They were quiet for a moment. The sound of a colorful, animated movie filled up the void of conversation in their place. It was almost peaceful. If not for today’s revelations hanging overhead, the scene might have been almost domestic. 

Diego ground his teeth together. “I’m going to kill him.” 

Allison blinked. A smile tugged at her lips. “Who, Dad? Little bit late for that, Diego.” 

He smirked, but it fell almost as soon as it rose. “No. Five.” At Allison’s questioning look, he added, “Little bastard always thinks he can handle everything himself. Didn’t you hear him earlier? He knows damn well everything about how Dad used to torture us, but we never knew this?” 

Looking back down to Five, Allison shook her head. “We were always so self-centered at that age. You know that.” 

“Five obviously wasn’t.” 

Allison sighed. She didn’t know what to say to that. Her own guilt was screaming the same thing, after all. “He used to listen to me complain about what Dad had me doing. He was like my kid therapist, or something. Sometimes, I would be so afraid of what Dad had planned for my next section that I would just cry into his shoulder for hours.” 

Diego was quiet, frowning down at Five’s sleeping face. 

“And every time, without fail, the next day Five would be wreaking havoc around the house. Getting on Dad’s nerves, you know?” Allison laughed, voice tight and wet. “And Dad would punish him instead of training me. I didn’t even need a rumor for Five to protect me. At the time I felt so triumphant about sneaking out of those trainings. But now...” 

“He put up with a lot of shit for us.” Diego said. Then, more quietly, he admitted, “Five used to do the same for me, too.” 

Allison nodded. 

They had all been so blind. And even now, Five wasn’t telling them everything. Allison wouldn’t force him—Five had been through enough without his selfish siblings poking around where they didn’t belong. Where they _should_ have belonged, years and years ago when they could have helped Five like he did them. 

But they didn’t help Five. Allison was starting to think that no one ever had. She sighed. 

Below her fingers, Five rested, quiet and peaceful. He never looked more like a child than when he was curled up asleep. Looking like that, Allison could almost convince herself that he was still a little boy that could be protected. He wasn't— not anymore. But that wouldn't stop them from trying.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are very much appreciated!


End file.
